The A40 Witney Bypass 18:00, Friday (BBC)
(Pics by Steph, with apologies for indifferent quality in places, except for those marked BBC which are courtesy of the cast of thousands who submitted their snaps to BBC Hereford & Worcester and Oxford local radio websites.)
Well, we made it there and back. Whether we should have even tried is a matter now that seems, with the benefit of hindsight, open to question but, to use a wise old Chiltern saw, "it seemed like a Good Idea at the time". There was, it must be said, a certain sense of duty involved, as we had on board the Vale of White Horse Group's 9 x 3m shelter and gazebo: we didn't want to leave the group standing in the rain. And then there was the beer – 40 pints of prize Marlow Rebellion, plus a few cases of lager for the ladies. And no, you can’t get that lot into a TR7. Just to make it interesting, we had the caravan on the back as well.
We want to tell you about the cracking time we had at the weekend. But first, they say that Getting There is half the fun, so here goes…
It belted down with rain all the previous night, and continued with the odd clap of thunder until we’d finished packing. It stopped while we went in for lunch and then started again when we came out to hitch up, check tyre pressures, electrics and the rest. What a sod of a day. We finally got away at about 15:00.
The plan was to head out through Abingdon to the A40 at Witney. Going under the A34 it was solid southbound, but the first sign of real trouble for us was crossing the A420 at Kingston Bagpuize - the bowl-shaped roundabout was filling with water. Then nearing Witney, at the entrance to Cokethorpe School, we encountered a river flowing across the road. This was negotiated gingerly and successfully but a van driver advised we wouldn’t get through the next flood on the Ducklington by-pass. Well, that may or may not have been but there were cars farting about at all angles there so we swung off into the village itself. No joy: within a few hundred yards we were met by a person carrying various parts of her car and advised to turn round. So came our first three-point turn, with Steph very nobly getting out into a few inches of water to see me back.
We backtracked, through the swollen brook again, to Standlake and headed across to Bampton, which all went terribly well until another deep and long ford at Aston and then, entering Bampton itself, a very dodgy looking puddle which seemed to have neither end nor bottom. So we diverted into a cul de sac, where the unfortunate residents were having to bale out their houses, and managed another three point turn without incurring any third-party liability (but only just!).
At this point I felt I'd expended my share of good fortune so resolved to return home, though we still had to get back through the floods at Aston and Bagpuize. A brief pause in a layby to get out and see how things were back in the caravan gave a taste of just how inclement the weather was - still heavy rain driven by a fierce wind - but was also a chance to look at the road atlas and collect our thoughts. The idea formed that, with any A or B road in low-lying ground (i.e. just about all of them) being impassable, we should head up the A420 to Oxford and try to get on to the motorway.
By the time we returned to the Bagpuize roundabout it was a little more full of water and had gained a population of dead cars which added to the interest. We took deep breaths and dived in, fortunately emerged unscathed and headed up the A420. Even as we did so, a police car was carving its way through the huge queue down to the roundabout to slap up the 'Road Closed' signs. The trip to the M40 turned out reasonably well, having on the way allowed ourselves a brief flirtation with the idea of using the A40, that being well scuppered by the size of the queue at the Wolvercote roundabout. So back on to the A34 it was, not too much traffic considering, the rain had stopped and it was almost a pleasant late afternoon. The M40 was running reasonably smoothly, too. For about three miles.
The A40 Witney Bypass 18:00, Friday (BBC)
We queued, stop-start, from around 18:00, all the way, as it turned out, to the Warwick services which we passed about 20:30. Still, I wasn't too perturbed by all this; at least we were away from the floods on the A and B roads, and I've sorted the cooling system on the 7 so queueing is no problem. Feeling quite smug, really. Then, looking at the temperature needle creeping up to its normal 'stuck in traffic' position, thinking "fan should be cutting in any time now" and then "hmmm, better switch it on manually". Ah. Bugger. No Kenlowe. On to the hard shoulder and fortunately it was just the fan's supply fuse that had blown, presumably when it got drowned in one of the floods. A new (slightly bigger) fuse and we were back in business, smug feeling returned.
Smug feeling somewhat misplaced - this
was the M40 north of Banbury earlier in the afternoon (BBC)
In the meantime, VoWH GL Mike and Rachel had been trying to get out of Faringdon in Rivet and a hired van carrying, among other things, a very large pot of stew intended to feed the group. They’d tried the roads northwards to the A40 that we hadn't, with equal lack of success. But by then the A420 had been closed so they couldn't get out to Oxford or Swindon either and had no alternative but to give up and go home.
We got to the Warwick Services to find them closed, but cars were stopping on the hard shoulder anyway and people jumping over the fences to get in. There was also a goodly number of lorries parked on the extended run-offs, presumably taking mandatory rest breaks. The number of vehicles joining and leaving the hard shoulder was at least part of the cause of the jam we'd been in. Further interest was provided by a parting of the traffic to allow the progress of two fire engines on 'blues and twos', one towing a boat. Definitely a different kind of a day.
I really had been looking forward to a stop at the services but, once we were past all the shenanigans there, traffic began to flow more smoothly and we had a reasonable run up on to the M42 and around the south of Birmingham (though there was a two-mile tailback for the M42 northbound at the junction).
Petrol and comfort were taken at the services at J2 where I made my one unquestionably good decision of the day: to unhook the caravan and go for petrol solo - it was chaos in there. As we'd come north and west the weather had closed in and it was raining heavily again, dark and utterly miserable. And now there was another problem with the Kenlowe - it wouldn't switch off. Adjusted the setting: no joy. Twiddled the terminals on the bottom of the control box: fixed! Que...?
Back out on the motorway traffic was running freely around to the M5 interchange. However, after a short distance on the M5 southbound, things came to a complete stand again.
The M5 was really slow. Worryingly long periods of no progress at all were punctuated by at least some movement, so we stuck with it. It took over an hour to get to the first junction at Droitwich, where the temptation to bail out and give the A38 a go was very strong - we know now it wouldn't have done us any good. Parked lorries taking their breaks on the hard shoulder were increasingly frequent. We'd heard about the problems around Gloucester, and that the M40 had now been closed. It was still raining and there did seem a real possibility that we'd be stuck on there for the night. But, finally, after taking two hours to cover the 16 miles from the services, we escaped at the Warndon junction and into familiar territory.
M5, Friday night (BBC)
There's a relief road running parallel with the M5 down the east side of Worcester. It's on high ground but does have several roundabouts and some of them were having drainage problems. We saw only a couple of other cars on this section and got through all the puddles ok. Then on to the southern ring road, which in my master strategy was a new road therefore built well above flood level, across the Severn flood plain. The road was clear of both water and traffic, though we did notice that on either side, in the darkness, as far as we could see, were reflections off huge sheets of water which didn't seem all that much lower than we were. Indeed at the Powick roundabout, where the A449 branches off to Malvern, standing water was most of the way across the road but there was room to get around. There was just one more major obstacle, a queue for a water splash in a dip on the A449, and then we were on to the B4208 heading south to the showground. Water was up to kerb level in a few places but, taken gently, was no obstacle and, at 23:00, eight hours after leaving home, we found ourselves at the Yellow Gate, pulling up beside a dayglo jacket surmounted by a smiling, friendly face.
Well, it wasn't Dave the Gate standing there in the green jacket, or even a close relative, but it was a security guard who informed us that there would be no charge for entry, camping was in the Severn Hall and we'd probably like to park "that" on some hard standing somewhere. We drove in and made a quick circuit of the site to see who else had made it. It was surreal to see the showground almost completely empty, just a couple of caravans and a tent on the whole field, with a small community of caravans and a few cars clustered about the main (Severn) hall, and a few more on the tarmac between the trade and concours halls where we chose to drop anchor ourselves. It was now just barely spitting with rain, but there was still a sheen of water flowing across the tarmac and a fair stream going down the channel at the side of the road. We took a few minutes to park up and then walked across to the main hall.
Checking contents of boot all OK, 23:10, Friday
We had to pick our way carefully across the showground – there was still plenty of flowing water and silt on the roads and if the grass looked dry it was only because it was three inches long where the water was two inches deep. In the hall the scene was rather different to normal – a tented avenue had sprung up along the sides and back, a few tens of people were lounging at the tables, and there was no queue at the bar.
Perhaps understandably, among those few present there was a high concentration of "the usual suspects" and a great craic was developing. We grabbed a pint and a bag of crisps – our first sustenance since lunchtime - and went round to try to catch up with everbody's news.
The circumstances had produced bizarre distortions in travel experiences - Stevie and some of his gang from Clyde Valley were there, but they'd come down the day before. Cat Tunnadine had left Birmingham at 12:00 and taken an hour to get down, others had left there at 13:00 and taken over seven hours. Ian and Barbara had come up from Wantage via Swindon and Gloucester in their concours 7v8 with trailer, leaving at 14:00 and arriving at 22:30. Mobile phones were buzzing; there were a heck of a lot of folk who were either back at home or else stuck, some knowing not where, in leisure centres, village halls, hotels, B&Bs or even at the side of the road. They were in all directions around Malvern, but not necessarily those that they'd originally been approaching from. With car trouble, a few of London Group had found a nice big house; knocked at the door for assistance and, having been somewhat taken aback by the apparel of the lady who answered, discovered it was a convent and got invited to stay the night.
Ian and Barbara making themselves at home in Severn Hall, after midnight.
I was somewhat peckish by breakfast time, so we went for the full English at the hall. The queue was short, but it still took ages as just two guys from the catering staff were trying to manage the whole thing. They were living on site; no other staff had been able to get to the showground.
Chris Cunnington called a meeting of traders and group leaders at 09:30; as most of us were sole representatives of our groups that meant just about everyone. The tone of the meeting was essentially "we got here, we're stuck here, so we might as well make the best of it". Those traders who'd made it agreed to set up as normal. Evening entertainment was "in hand" – though there was a potential problem with the band as their van had not been returned to depot by its previous hirer. There was also an issue with the showground being a designated evacuation centre: we might be joined at any time by a section of the local populace. Finally, a 1:50000 map was produced, covered in orange and green spots. The orange dots marked road closures, the green more road closures but we ran out of orange.
What with the spotty map and the excellent traffic news from BBC Hereford & Worcester, just how very fortunate we had been to have arrived at all was becoming evident. Essentially we seemed to have got through as the severity of the flash run off decreased, and before the rivers had started to burst out of the flood plains. And now life was getting very uncomfortable not too far away: rivers were rising, bridges collapsing, people evacuating their homes, helicopters rescuing. A visit to the site shop for basic provisions provided some more local info. It was currently impossible to get through from Worcester, so the shop's stock had been depleted to supply the village store at Hanley Swan. The site catering manager was on the road somewhere trying to get through - he was carrying the provisions for the evening meal - but the staff for the food vans out on the field were all unable to get away from their homes.
Powick
roundabout over the weekend; we drove through just OK late on Friday evening
(BBC).
Flash flooding on the M50 at J2, Friday pm.
(BBC).
Meanwhile those TR stalwarts who'd been marooned overnight, and hadn't decided to head straight for home, were beginning to trickle on to the site. Tony and Mrs Jeans turned up in their 3A (as featured on the front cover of the last TRAction, but now back on aeroscreens) with caravan, having spent the night parked in a lay-by. Alan and Mrs Gibb rolled in from Aberdeen with Alan's little white van trailering his Swallow Doretti. Tony 'Bring & Buy' Lennon and Alison Pitts managed to plot a circuitous route in from Broadway; they’d spent the night on the floor of a conservatory at some B&B. Back home, several VoWH members had been trying again to get out of west Oxfordshire since the early hours, but weren't able make it. So Mike's stuck with a freezer full of BBQ meat, and even he may be losing his taste for lamb stew by now.
Rachel attempting to escape from Faringdon in Rivet (BBC, presumably taken by Mike in the
van. They were then stuck at home with nothing better to do than send pics to the BBC)
Weatherwise, it was a dull old day with some light drizzle. The clouds hung on to the tops of the Malverns for most of the day and the pleasant afternoon that was forecast never quite materialized. We had a mooch around the trade hall to try to remember if there was any shopping we wanted to do. The concours brigade was busy in their hall; a surprisingly large number of them had managed to turn up so the competition proceeded much as normal. But in truth there wasn’t much else on apart from visiting friends in their various unconventional camping haunts.
Camping in the sheep shearing shed. A bit
'niffy, but mains electric supplied!
We got together with a few mates in the afternoon and pooled our provisions to produce a very reasonable lunch, taken in the caravan and washed down with a combination of Marlow Rebellion and Ludlow Gold (yes, curiously enough, Shropshire Group's beer supply had made it through too). We'd given them a fair seeing-to and were just snoozing nicely when there was a rap on the window. Glavon had arrived - by Land Rover following an earlier failed attempt by TR. They had a crisis - 72 pints of Uley Bitter with a shelf life measured in hours...
The Brothers and Sisters of Mercy, Glavon Chapter, bring healing waters to Malvern.
Well, we were fairly wrecked by tea time and an evening meal was definitely needed. Fortunately the catering manager had made it through from Worcester with the food, although it took him several hours. I have to say that, at a fiver a go, the meals were pretty good value, and we'd have been stuck without them. Some of the campers who were better provisioned had set up their BBQs outside the back of the main hall; nobody went hungry.
Part of the tented village in Severn Hall
As feared, the band hadn't been able to get their act together for the evening, but Steve Redway and Mark Treadwell stepped in to the breach and staged a fantastic disco into the wee small hours. Goes to show the depth of talent on the TR Register Committee. The craic was amazing. Just imagine your ordinary international - music, bbq, chat, bar, buffet, bopping. Then bring your tent in, add a few kids whizzing about on bikes, and compress it all into the space of about 200 feet. Manic!
Saturday evening entertainment - the Redders and Treaders Disco, and a
bloke in clogs on a bike.
Sunday dawned a fairly bright day, albeit with light showers about. The travel situation, though still dire, had stabilized and, with the information coming over local radio, it was possible to route plan with reasonable certainty. From Malvern there was only one way out: down the Welland road to J2 of the M50. Locally, rivers were still rising; Upton upon Severn, just a couple of miles away, was in a desperate state.
Mindful of what had happened on Friday, I took the best part of two full English breakfasts on board in case we didn't get to eat again. There was another meeting to define the day's programme: essentially all activities were cancelled with the exception of the dog show and the main prize giving, which was brought forward to 13:00. The TS2 handover to Chiltern at the end of its national tour was postponed on at least two counts: no Chiltern drivers present and TS2 marooned in a garage near Evesham, raised on blocks above six inches of flood water.
Tony Lennon and Bill Piggott set up a limited Bring & Buy stall, and managed to sell a couple of things. The PA was set up in the upper trade hall and Steve and Ian Evans manfully kept things going around the displays for the birthday celebrations for the TR3A and TR5/250s. Several more people had made it to the site during the morning and there was a good turn out of TR5s, but rather fewer 3As. The "two breakfast" strategy rather fell on its nose at this point, as the huge birthday cakes were shared between a couple of hundred rather than the intended couple of thousand. Stuffed!
Birthday celebrations
This international was of course Ian Evans' last as chairman and a number of speeches and presentations, not least the handover of TS2 at the end of its national tour, had been planned in varying degrees of secrecy. Many of these had to go by the board in the circumstances, but Alan Gibb was able to make a presentation to Ian on behalf of Scottish TRs.
Scottish TRs
mark Ian Evans' chairmanship in time honoured fashion.
The prize giving ceremony took place as planned at 13:00 but by then we were preparing to get on the road, having become a little uneasy as to how long the single route out would remain available. As he has written elsewhere, at this point Chris Cunnington too was feeling uneasy as he received a call from the army to say that they were going in to Upton upon Severn to evacuate two thousand people on to the showground. In the event, the people chose to stay in their homes.
Contemplating the trip home
Our trip back via M50, M5, M42 and M40 was uneventful, though the vast acreage under water in the Severn Vale was a sight to behold. Tony and Alison went down the M5 and up onto the A40 via the Air Balloon roundabout and also reported no problems.
Finally of course, we got back to Oxfordshire and attention turned to our own local situation. Fortunately we're not directly affected by river flooding at the house, but the lower part of the pub garden was well under water and our direct route from Oxford closed.
Pub garden and Clifton Hampden road, Long Wittenham.